


Never Enough

by olivemartini



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Suicide, Character Study, Cheating, M/M, Season 1, but a minor character, colliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: If there's one thing Connor knows about himself, it's that he wants, wants everything, anything, like he could take the whole world in his palms and would still be stretching them out for more, more, always more, and even then, it would still never be enough.





	Never Enough

If there's one thing Connor knows about himself, it's that he  _wants,_ wants everything, anything, like he could take the whole world in his palms and would still be stretching them out for  _more, more,_ always more, and even then, it would still never be enough.

It's why he's here.  It's why, back when he was fourteen and still slept on Iron Man bedsheets, he hadn't bothered to argue when his mother was going to send him to a private boarding school halfway across the country where he would only see her a few weeks a year and would only get to catch up with his sister over the phone and through her facebook updates, because after he had run through all the private Catholic schools in the area and couldn't seem to be able to keep his tongue in check at any of them, it was the only private school that could take him.  It's why he would wake up at four in the morning every day for six years to go out and train, losing himself in his footsteps pounding on the pavement, through rain and snow and watching the sun creep over the trees before heading back inside, always thinking of the finish line, of the chill of a gold painted trophy against sweaty palms as the crowd screams for him.  

It's why he came to Middleton.  It's why he stayed up half the night to form an argument that would impress Professor Keating before he knew what that would mean, why he was stupid enough to think it was an accomplishment to be part of the Keating 5 instead of a death sentence.  Why he wanted that trophy.  Why he went to find Oliver at the bar that one night and risked his whole career to help further someone else's, all for a letter of recommendation and a foot in the door.  It's why he was doing this.  Why he did what he did.

Because he wanted.  And when he wanted things, he always did what it took to get them.

The plan was simple.  Connor had grown up wanting, had grown up alongside other boys who had wanted things, too, but didn't know how to get them and didn't have the words to ask for them, didn't have the nerve or the spine, but he had always known exactly how to get them.  It was amazing, what people would do when confronted with a pretty face, and he- he knew how to be pretty.  The thing about wanting things- you knew how to make other people want them, too.

"Got a boyfriend I should be jealous of?"  

It's an open invitation if Connor had ever heard one, and he's already turning back to him, because he knows what he's supposed to say, had said it a thousand times before-  _I don't do boyfriends._

But.

"I do..."  He stops for a moment, and thinks, because Connor wants, and knows that sometimes things came at a price.  That there was always a trade off.  And suddenly, he didn't want that trade off to be Oliver, because Oliver was sweet and let him steal things from his fridge and doesn't ever throw him out when Connor just shows up at his door all strung out and demanding, and just that morning he had went and said that thing about doing couple things, sometimes, maybe, spluttered out excuses and saying how Oliver knew that that wasn't what they were doing, but honestly, if they weren't a couple than Connor didn't know what the hell they were doing, either.  And technically, Connor had laid down his  _I don't do boyfriends_ thing with Oliver just like he had with everyone else, and technically he never asked to be exclusive and _technically_ Connor should still be able to say he's single, but he knows.  Knows if he does this it is still him doing something wrong, knows that this is as close to cheating as you can come when you aren't really in a relationship.

Knows, even if neither of them are saying it, that this is a thing.  A private thing, a thing that they aren't really going to announce on facebook or introduce to each other's friends, but.  An exclusive thing.  A thing that Connor really, really likes.  A thing he really, really  _wants._

 _You wanted this first,_ he reminds himself, thinking of everything that he had sworn to himself he would be- first in the class, great internship that led to a great job, a corner office with a giant window, awards and money and everything that would make certain people from back home sorry they ever thought that he wasn't something special.   _Don't give it up for him._

 

 

 

Mikayla calls him a slut.

Asher seems delighted by the whole thing, unable to tear his eyes away from Connor in the way that good little girls and boys never are able to look away from the freak show, torn between being scandalized and impressed.

Laurel rolls her eyes.  Wes raises an eyebrow and smiles, shaking his head in a way that seems friendly, and that just makes Connor want to punch him in the face, right in his perfect teeth.  

Annalise doesn't even react.

Connor doesn't really know what to think about it, but mostly, he thinks that he's proud.  He had went and done what it took, got information that no one else had, found the answer that they weren't ever going to get on their own.  None of the others could really get their hands dirty- Mikayla could lie and Asher could call in favors and Wes is creative when he puts his mind to it, and Laurel fades into the background so often that any breakthrough on her behalf is always startling, but Connor was willing, and he was good at it.  And for the moment, Annalise liked him best, something that he wanted very much and he didn't know why.

( _He thinks, later, that what he did in that office should have been the first clue to get out while he still could.  The first sign that she was screwing with his head, because no one, no one, ever had the ability to make Connor do things that he didn't want to do.  And he certainly didn't want to do that, with that person (_ Paxton, Pax for short)  _when Oliver was waiting up for him at home.  He should have ran.  But he didn't._ )

"You happy?"  Mikayla.  He knew from the sound of her heels, and he knew when she slaps her hand down on the door to keep him from leaving.  Connor was strong enough to leave anyways, but doesn't- if he doesn't push her he'll at least jostle her in the process, and no matter how annoying he finds Mikayla, he's not quite willing to shove around any woman, even on accident, and she seems to know it.  "Was it worth it?"

Oliver stares at her.

"Annalise seemed to think so."  He raises an eyebrow, has his tongue between his teeth, but really, he doesn't know.  Doesn't think it is.  He hadn't gotten the trophy back.  The win, when they win, won't be his- it'll be Annalise's.  "Didn't you?"

He doesn't wait for her to answer.  Doesn't care.  There's really only one person that he wants to care about, and Connor knows he managed to screw that up.

 

 

When he was fourteen, Connor got thrown out of school.

Not because he was bad, or stupid, or the reasons that fourteen year old boys normally got thrown out of school.  He didn't really get thrown out, either, not really- his mom had walked into the office with that too tired look on her face and talked to with the principal for a solid five minutes before coming to sit with Connor in the hallway and tell him that she would find somewhere else.  He had watched them through the window, seen that sickly sweet smile on his mother's face as she talked to the principal, the one that she wears in public when someone makes her angry but she still wants to cling to her reputation, and he had known, somewhere deep in his stomach, that he wasn't coming back.

"We'll find you a new school," She had said, her hands so tight on the steering wheel that her nails were digging into the leather.  She always kept her nails perfectly manicured and longer than was practical, and Connor remembered staring at them as he sucked down the milk shake she had bought him.  They were a bright purple that day, one of the shades that most girls grow out of by the time they're twenty.  Sometimes, Connor thinks that his mother never really did grow up, but that day, he had been so overwhelmingly glad for her, to have someone that would always be in his corner.  "A better school, somewhere where they aren't,"

She had cut herself off.  Connor never asked her what she was going to say, didn't need to.  He hadn't been kicked out for any reason that would make her angry- he had been pulled over to the office to talk about him being gay, about sharing smiles in the hallway with another boy that was just as shy as Connor was then, to discuss his  _options._ About counseling and study plans and devotional hours with the priests that the school had for the students.  That was the first time that Connor understood what it meant when people said that they wanted to disappear.

"Those people are small," His mom had said, voice shaking with emotion, quivering with it, and there were tears shining in her eyes.  Not from her being sad.  His mother was an angry crier- he had seen it in every fight with his dad, every time that Connor tried to be cruel to her.  "Small people with small dreams and small minds and you," She had to stop and take in a shaking breath, and Connor just wanted to leave.  "You are  _nothing_ that they say you are, do you understand?   _Nothing._ "

He hadn't answered her, just nodded in one sharp jerk of the head, and then gone back to the his room, where he cried so hard for so long that he threw up his milk shake all over the carpet, and it was there that he made up his mind that he would never feel that way again.   That he would do what it took, whatever it took, so he would never feel that way again.  It's the first time he could remember starting to want, and the first time he realized that there would be no back up plan for him if he failed.

Connor wanted, and what he wanted was to be good, to be great, to grow so tall that even if someone wanted to talk to him the way that they did in that office, he wouldn't be able to hear it.

 

 

 

He's proud of what he did even when the recording is being played to the office.

Proud, and not sorry, because it was nothing that stupid little Pax hadn't been willing to do.  Connor had heard what he said on the phone, how it was just as big of a calculated choice for him as it was for Connor, the only difference being that in Connor's case, it actually worked.  He wasn't sorry, because Pax had called whoever the hell it was and made Connor sound like he was the stupid one, and if there was one thing in this world that Connor hated, it was being called stupid.

It's only when his boss starts talking that he's sorry.

 _Those people that left you will actually have a reason to abandon you,_ and Connor can see the way that Pax flinches and trembles, can feel the answering pull deep in his own stomach, because he knows, just like every person like him and Pax knows, about what it means to look at the people who promised to love you and know, no matter how many times you hear them saying it and no matter how sincere they sound while they say it, that there's a chance that it's going to lie.  That they'll find out and hate you overnight, catch you when you think no one is looking and suddenly look at you with nothing but disgust.  And it doesn't stop at family- it happens every day for the rest of your life, every new friend and classmate and coworker, and Connor knows that feeling, knows what it means to have something to prove and wanting so much that you'll do anything in order to show people what they were missing.

He's still watching him when everyone else turns away, is still seeing the tremble, and he sees him turn away, walk to the window, climb up on it.

"I'm sorry," Pax says, and Connor thinks he says something but not must have done it loud enough so he tries again, and he is only standing, frozen, thinking how he pulled his shoes on beside this boy on the office floor last night and that Pax is so young and that maybe Mikayla was right, this wasn't worth it, and Frank is the one who is running, running to get him but not there fast enough, running as he topples back out the window without even so much as a scream.

 

 

 

"Hey."  Oliver is sweet.  Connor knows he is going to try and be sweet the moment the apartment door swings open, because he is already out of his work clothes and there is a homecooked meal on the table behind him, and Connor wonders, with a sense of horror that is kept distant in the shock of the day's events, that this was a terrible time for Oliver to try and be a couple.  "I heard about the case."  Connor just stares at him, maybe a little blanker than normal, and he doesn't really step into the apartment until Oliver is reaching up to shrug up his jacket and slide the tie out of place, throwing them both over the back of the chair.  "I saw it on the news."

The news.

Connor hadn't noticed the news.  Hadn't noticed anything, really, except for that woman swearing and Laurel's hand over her mouth and Mikayla's hand on his arm, the way that Annalise had given him one appraising look before turning back to Bonnie to talk about whatever the hell their next move was going to be, because Annalise was nothing else if not a woman with a plan.  And then the long ride down the elevator, where Wes had offered to stay inside with him if he wanted and Connor had brushed him off and Asher had taken one look at Pax's body on the ground before swearing fluently in a language that might have been German and then stumbling a few feet over to puke in the gutter.

 _Oliver doesn't need to know that,_ Connor thinks, because that is something ugly and he does not want it to be ugly here.   _Oliver doesn't need to hear about how his head looks, the way it caved in, the blood on the sidewalk, doesn't need to hear how it was the first body you ever saw, doesn't need to know any of that._

"It's fine," Connor says, and his voice cracks, miserably and embarrassingly, and he swipes at his eyes to hide the tears that had appeared there.  "I didn't know him."  Oliver doesn't look convinced.  "It's not like we were friends."

"He killed himself right in front of you."  Oliver had tea, of all things, like he was just as lost with this as Connor was and had googled  _How to Deal with your Traumatized Boyfriend 101,_ even though they weren't officially boyfriends.  "You're allowed to be upset about that."

There's a moment where Connor stares at him and thinks about walking out.  Thinks about trying to push what happened today out of the room and lock it out in the hallway where it couldn't touch them, return to their regularly scheduled routine of starting to really like each other but not talking about it.  But then he closes his eyes and sees Pax slipping backwards out of that window and knows that that wasn't going to work.

"I am.  Upset.  That he did that.  That I had to see it.  That he,"  His fists were clenching at his sides.  "He had the nerve to do what he did and didn't have the spine to face the consequences, you know, even after-,"

 _Even after I slept with him,_ were the next words, but Connor can't tell Oliver that, about how this was practically his fault, that he can remember what Pax felt like and sounded like and could remember the look on his face when his boss told his that she loved him like a son, that now she has a reason to be ashamed of him.  That was his burden to bear.

"I really like you," Is what he ends up saying, because if this has taught him anything, it's that he really, really likes Oliver.  "And I think you were right, earlier.  About doing couple things.  We should start doing couple things."

Oliver stares.

Connor stares back, and doesn't say anything, because Oliver wasn't asking any questions and Connor hadn't planned to say that and he was working through what he had said, what he was offering, if there was even an offer in there.  

"This isn't-," There's a look on his face that Connor doesn't understand.  "We don't need to talk about this right now."

Connor knows they don't need to, but he wants to.  Wants Oliver to know, suddenly, that this was real.

"I know."  He was nervous.  It was a weird feeling with him, especially around Oliver, when Connor was so used to having the upper hand.  "I'm just saying.  I'm not opposed to- to couple things.  I'd be happy with couple things."  It was getting easier to breathe, in this apartment, with Oliver.  "I'd be happy with you."

 

 

 

It lasts for three days, approximately.

Three days where no one else seems phased by Paxton and his free fall out the window.  Three days where Connor studies and writes papers and bugs Mikayla and makes faces at Asher and tries not to ignore how it feels like the Keating 5 are actually becoming friends, three days where he's at Annalise's every beck and call even though he thinks he might be starting to hate her.  Three days where he runs double the miles he normally does and shows up just on the verge of being late to everything and cries in the relative privacy of the shower whether he's at his house or Oliver's, three days where he stares at himself in the mirror and tries to decide whether or not he looks different, considering he had just killed a man.

Three days where he talks about Paxton to Oliver a lot more than he should have.  Three days where he learns that he wasn't as good as a liar as he thinks he is.  Three days before he remembers that he hadn't deleted that recording from his phone.

"Get out," Oliver says, and Connor reels with the words, because no matter what he had done or said or what Connor had asked of him, Oliver had never seemed this hurt, this angry.  Oliver had never seemed angry before, even, just weary.  "Get out."

"Oliver.  He wasn't."  There were really no excuses.  No arguments that made sense, other than his determination never to feel small again and what it meant to him to win, that this thing with the Keating 5 was a competition of the worst kind and was meant to rip them all apart and Connor just wanted to prove something to Annalise, nothing but the fact that he hadn't realized that he was making a mistake until it was already over.  "He was just sex, you're more than that, you-,"

Oliver never finds out what he was, just shoves Connor out in the apartment, and Connor doesn't fight back, because suddenly Oliver was so much stronger than he had remembered, and this, this was not what he had wanted, not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on Instagram @olive.writes.fanfic


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